The Uneasy Allies Raid
by StoryGal85
Summary: Captain Dietrich has been the Rat Patrol's main adversary since they began fighting in Africa. Although they are technically enemies they have come to respect and admire each other, but what happens when Dietrich needs the Rat Patrol's help? Sequel to my story, The Common Enemy Raid
1. Chapter 1

Please read and review, as I am sure is true of any of my fellow authors of fanfictionness...we thrive on reviews and need them in order to continue. Thank you so much for taking the time to write one!

The Uneasy Allies Raid

"Guten Morgen mein Lieber," (Good morning, my Love.) Hauptmann Hans Dietrich said softly to the small girl who lay sleeping on her bed. He bent forward and kissed her forehead. She stirred slightly then settled back, a smile on her delicate features.

Dietrich stood from beside his daughter's bed and looked around her room. Despite being in Berlin the house had not sustained much damage from allied bombing attacks. He was glad of this. The place held so many memories, both good and bad...but mostly good. Like bread baking in the stone oven, his wife kneeding dough, flour on her nose and a few whisps of blonde hair escaping her bun. The sunlight streaming through the large window in the greatroom as he played with Marta, teaching her to walk...

Shaking his head sadly at the thought of leaving once again, Dietrich strode quietly out of Marta's room. His wife, Lennore, met him in the kitchen, her green eyes full of tears.

"Ich wünsche Ihnen musste nicht gehen," (I wish you did not have to go,) she said as she wrapped her arms around him.

Dietrich pulled her tightly to him and they stood there a long time, he could smell her hair...he wished he could stay as well. Finally he pulled back from her and looked her straight in the eyes, "Ich kann meine Pflicht nicht entziehen . Ich werde wiederkommen , nicht fürchten. Aber ... Dinge können sich ändern ..." (I can not shirk my duty. But do not fear. I will return...but things may change...) Lennore's face showed her confusion at the last statement.

"Was nehmen Sie ?" (What are you talking about?) She asked.

Dietrich smiled softly, "Nach seiner Rückkehr nach Berlin , bin ich von den Schrecken erinnert durch die Nazi-Partei verpflichtet . Ich kann nicht blind bleiben die schrecklichen Dinge zu den Menschen hier getan wird ..." (Upon returning to Berlin, I am reminded of the horrors commited by the nazi party. I can not remain blind to the terrible things being done to the people here...)

Lennore nodded, "Ich bin damit einverstanden , Liebe, aber was kann man tun, um ihn zu stoppen ?" (I agree, Love but what can you do to stop it?)

"Ich weiß noch nicht , was zu tun ... vielleicht werde ich den Alliierten Kontakt ..." (I don't know yet what to do, maybe I will contact the allies...) Dietrich explained, his finger gently tracing Lennore's jawline. "Das heißt , wenn ich sehe, dass Sie und Marta sind sicher aus Deutschland." (That is after I see that you and Marta are safely out of Germany." He kissed her then, with passion. He knew this plan might fail. He knew this could be the last time he ever saw his family. But he also knew he could no longer wear the swastika and call Hitler Führer. Lennore melted into his embrace and kissed him back. They stayed that way for several minutes, neither wanting this moment to end. But knowing that his time was running short, Dietrich pulled away from his wife and then walked out of the house, willing himself not to run back to her. As he strode purposefully away from his home he slipped off his wedding band and once again hid it in a velvet pouch he carried in an inner pocket of his shirt. It was better for the men he commanded not to know he had family and so he had kept them a secret to all but a few.

As he walked down the street towards the escort waiting to take him to the airfield he tried not to look at the damage and devastation to what had once been his home. All around him were burned buildings, ruins of old homes that had once houses friends. War is hell, Dietrich thought to himself. He reached the truck and after saluting the corporal driving, he stepped inside and they sped off, away from the destruction...away from Berlin...away from his home.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sarge, they're right on our tails!" Young Mark Hitchcock shouted over the roar of his jeep's engine and the stacatto clatter of the big .50 cal mounted on the back. Swerving to miss a large rock Hitch held his breath as the jeep teetered on two wheels for a few minutes then settled back onto the ground.

"Hey!" Sergeant Troy shouted from his precarious perch, standing in the back of the jeep his hands grasping the gun as he fired and tried his best to stay in the vehicle.

"Sorry!" Hitch hit a soft spot in the african sand and dropped a gear to get out of the hole. Spinning sand in all directions he managed to wrench the jeep free of the sucking sand.

"Watch out for those spots. We are dead if we stop!" Troy yelled unnecessarily.

"I know, Sarge!" came the exasperated reply.

Nearby the other two members of the team known as the Desert Rat Patrol, rode alongside Troy and Hitch in their own army jeep. Sergeant Moffitt was firing madly at their pursuers while his driver, Private Tully Pettigrew, steered a course around the many obstacles the desert floor held for them. As the two jeeps raced along they neared a small canyon. The opening was not wide...barely enough for a jeep to pass through safely. Troy's plan was to get inside it where the chasing trucks could not reach them. He hoped it did not turn out to be a box canyon.

Looking to his left, Sergeant Moffitt saw a german half-track coming at them from the side in a flanking manouver. "Troy!" He shouted, pointing at the danger but his commander could not hear him over the battle and roar of engines. Tapping Tully on the shoulder, Moffit got his driver's attention long enough to show him the approaching threat. "Faster!" The englishman shouted. He was out of grenades and escape was their only chance of survival. Tully expertly dodged a group of boulders and gunned the already screaming engine. It coughed in protest but sped up, the opening to the canyon was getting rapidly closer.

Troy prayed his plan would work as he and Hitch's jeep neared the canyon's mouth. He saw Moffitt and Tully enter the ravine and a second later he and Hitch followed suit. With the last grenade they had with them, Troy pulled the pin and threw it back against the crumbling sandstone wall. A heartbeat later the explosive went off, collapsing a large section of the canyon wall as it did so. The german vehicles were forced to stop at the canyon's mouth. Troy grinned as the trucks faded from view as he and his team disappeared around a bend.

After a few minutes driving the canyon became rocky and difficult to navigate. At Troy's order, they halted to regroup and rest. The men dismounted from the jeeps and met in the shade of the rock wall's overhang. Sitting down heavily the tired men drew out canteens and drank gratefully. Troy waited until they had drunk their fill then addressed Moffitt. "What was that back there? They didn't act like a scout column and they had no supplies to speak of." He asked, referring to the german trucks they had just escaped from.

Moffit leaned back on his elbow, he slowly twisted the cap back on his canteen, his face thoughtful. "It doesn't make sense..." he said softly, distractedly, then he sat up, "Troy! Did you see into the half track?"

Troy shook his head.

"Well I did, It was driven by a man in a turban. An arab."

Troy's eyes widened, "Where did they get so much equipment? It's not unusual for a few raiders to steal a truck or some supplies...but a whole convoy?" his voice was laced with uncertainty.

Moffitt spoke louder, now sure of what he had seen earlier, "No that's exactly what happened, Troy. A renegade band of arabs must have abushed a german column and stolen the vehicles."

Troy nodded, seeing the logic in Moffitt's explaination, "I wonder who the colomn belonged to..."

"An old aquaintance of yours, Sergant Troy!" A german accented voice spoke up from above the weary patrol. Instantly they were on their feet, guns drawn.

"Dietrich?" Troy called out, "You must have survived the trip to the field hospital!" He reffered back to thier last meeting, Dietrich had nearly died after being beaten by the SS. Troy had saved his life but had not known until now whether or not the german captain had survived the ride to the aide station.

"Indeed I did!" Dietrich stepped into view now, an MP 40 submachine gun in his hands. "You should never let down your guard when in unknown territory, Sergeant." he said, stepping closer to the four men. He had two german privates with him, flanking him on either side, armed with lugers.

Troy nodded respectfully at the captain, "It's good to see you alive, Captain!" There was no sarcasm in this last statement. Even though the two were enemies, they had learned to repect each other and maybe even admire each other over their years of aquaintance. "What do you want from us?"

Dietrich nodded back, "It pains me to admit this, Sergeant...but I need your help."

Troy fought to keep the shock he felt from showing on his face, "You need my help?" He asked finally.

Dietrich nodded and gave a quiet order to his men. Slowly, hesitantly, they dropped thier guns. "You see, Sergeant. I am sincere in my request for help." He said as he too, lowered his gun to the ground. He raised his hands out at his sides, "We are unarmed. You are free to search us. I simply ask that you listen to my request."

Troy nodded towards Hitch and Tully who ran forward and after patting down the germans, brought them before Troy and Moffitt. "Alright, Captain. Explain why you need my help."

Dietrich glanced over at the still armed men of the rat patrol. Troy saw his gaze and holstered his gun, ordering his men to do likewise. Satisfied that he and his men were safe, Dietrich grasped his hands behind his back and faced Troy. "Do you remember Tannen?" He asked simply.

Troy nodded, "The man who helped us and you escape the SS camp a few months ago. Last I saw of him he was taking you to the hospital."

Dietrich nodded, "He has been a loyal soldier and friend to me since he came into my command almost six months ago. He needs my help...he was taken prisoner when my column was attacked by the arabs yesterday evening. They took us completely by surprise and managed to get away with everything. Our vehicles, radios and food."

Troy nodded, listening to the Captain's story with interest. Even though Tannen was a german soldier he had risked his own life to help Troy rescue Dietrich and escape the SS camp where they were being held prisoner. "Is there a chance he's even still alive?" He asked solomnly.

Dietrich's face took on a pained expression, "I certainly hope so, Sergeant."

"What do you think, Moffitt?" Troy asked. "Think he's still alive?"

Moffitt shrugged, "That all depends on what they took him for. If they think he's valuable to trade or for information then there is a chance...if they took him as a tribute to thir chieftan..." He trailed off, everyone knew that the 'if' ment death for Tannen.

"I say we try and save him, Sarge!" Hitch cried out from where he had been listening.

"Me too," Tully nodded, spitting his matchstick out on the ground.

Troy met Moffitt's eyes, "You think it's a trap?" he asked quietly.

Moffitt surveyed the german's standing before them, his eyes stopped on Dietrich. He noted the way the Captain stood, obviously ill at ease, with very little of his normal calm composure. "No, I think Dietrich's telling the truth."

Troy nodded then turned back to his enemy, "Alright, we will help you rescue Tannen if we can. We owe him a good turn for saving our lives."

Dietrich closed his eyes in relief for a moment then smiled at the American Sergeant, "Thank you." he said simply.

Troy nodded then jerked his head towards the jeeps, "We have food and water. Night is coming soon so we'd better make camp here. Maybe tomorrow we can get out of this canyon without busting an axle."

Dietrich explained the situation to his men in rapid german then looked back to the Sergeant, "Lead the way."

Soon the men had a cheery fire burning but they kept it shielded behind rocks so it could not be used to trace their location by any night stalking arabs. After a few minutes the C-rations the patrol always carried were heated at distributed. After the hot, tastless meal the seven men lay back to get a little rest before morning. Troy took first watch and he sat his lonely vigil as the darkness deepened into night


	3. Chapter 3

Private Hitchcock arose with the first rays of dawn. His watch having ended a few hours before. He yawned, nodded at Tully who sat up on a boulder with a clear view all around him, then rekindled the fire to brew up some coffee for breakfast. After a few minutes the smells of coffe woke the others from their sleep. Troy smiled as he sat down beside Hitch and gratfully accepted the steaming cup offered him. Hitch poured a second and took it over to Tully who slid off the large rock and accepted it.

Dietrich and his men hung back a bit until Hitch motioned them over, offering the last two metal cups of coffee. "We have to share," he said with a smile. "We only have four cups."

Dietrich nodded, relayed the information to his men then handed the cups to them. He sat down beside the fire and rubbed his hands to rid them of the night chill. He knew in a few hours the desert would heat up to an almost unbearable degree but for now the fire felt nice.

"Whatcha got for breakfast there, Hitch?" Troy asked genially.

Hitch grimaced, "Sme thing as last night...C-Rations."

Tully moaned softly in disgust, "I tell you what Sarge. I can't wait to take my mama's biscuits and gravy again. I dream about those things..." Noticing the slightly confused look on Dietrich's face, Tully laughed and explained, "Buscuits are a bread that's not sweet. And then we use flour, milk and bacon grease to make the finest gravy you've ever tasted!" He rubbed his stomach, "Oh man I wish we were in Kentucky."

Troy smiled and shook his head, "Shouldn't of started thinking about real food, Tully. Now you are doomed to dissapointment." Groaning the southerner came over to join the others as Hitch plated up the mush they would all eat for a second meal in a row.

Sergeant Troy sat back against a rock, plate in hand. He tried to imagine he was eating bacon and eggs but to little avail. To keep his mind off the food he looked over a Dietrich who sat, uncomfortably eating his food, his eyes watching everything that went on. "You never told us just how you came to be here...what happened?"

"As I said, we were ambushed by arabs and all our supplies taken." Dietrich put down his plate as one of his men brought him a cup of coffee.

"Yes, you said that much. How did it happen? You're no greenhorn. You wouldn't have been easy to take...how did they do it?"

Ditrich smiled and nodded towards Troy, "Thank you for the compliment, Sergeant." His face then grew serious as he thought for a few minutes. "I am not certain how...but our attackers knew exactly where we would camp and when to hit us..." He met Troy's eyes, "I believe someone betrayed us to the Arabs, I only wish I knew who." He looked over at his two remaining men, "Mueller and Kruppe are completely loyal...they would not betray me or our unit. In fact, Mueller's brother was killed in the attack yesterday."

Troy nodded and looked over at the man named, Mueller. He sat quietly, holding his untouched coffee, his eyes staring off into the distance. The look of sorrow on his face confirmed Dietrich's story. Troy turned his gaze back to the german captain, "You don't have any idea who could have given you away?''

Dietrich's eyes wandered about the canyon floor as he thought, "There were five men captured along with Tannen." He stated, "It could have been any of them."

"Not very trusting of your own men are you, Captain?"

Dietrich's eyes flashed with momentary anger then he shook his head, "No, Sergeant. And was your army run like mine is you would not be so quick to trust everyone in your's either."

Troy nodded, "Fair enough. So you think It's one of the five men?"

"I don't know for sure," he looked Troy straight in the eye, "Even though I was never publically accused by the SS, the accusations made by Colonel Zyder have hung over me. A few of his men escaped the explosion in the SS camp. They have been talking..." he let the sentence hang, Troy knew what that ment. To have even a hint of suspicion about you was almost as good as a death warrant in the german army.

"How is your family?" Troy asked quietly, knowing that before his death at his hands, Colonel Zyder had threatened to have Dietrich's family executed.

"Alive..." Dietrich paused for a few seconds then drew in a deep breath, "I am attempting to get them out of Germany. They are not safe there any longer." He shifted uncomfortably then looked out at the opposing canyon wall. "In fact, I have been considering...defecting." He said this last word so quietly, Troy had a hard time hearing him.

"Defecting?" He asked in the same quiet, although shocked voice. "You would join the allies?"

Dietrich nodded, "I have seen the camps..." He shuddered at the thought of the concentration camps...the death and terror..."I am a soldier. I never agreed to be a part of the slaughter of innocents..."

Troy almost put a comforting hand on the german's shoulder but stopped himself, unsure whether such a gesture would be accepted or not. He settled instead for a sympathetic look,"It's easy to get so focused on the fighting here that you forget what's happening to the men, women and children in those camps..."

Dietrich gave him a desparing look, "I can not fight for Hitler any longer, Sergeant. But if I simply change sides my family will die."

"Can't you get them into Switzerland?" Troy asked.

"I am under observation," Dietrich said quietly, "I fear that any attempt to get them out of the country will arouse suspicion."

Troy atrted to say something else but Tully called to him, "Jeeps are loaded. Ready to move out, Sarge!" He turned to the captain, "We will help you get your family safely to Switzerland."

Dietrich's face was unreadable as he stood, "Thank you, Sergeant. But I can not see how you can help me." And with that he walked away. Troy sighed, unsure himself of how he could help. Determined to think of something, he stood and followed behind Dietrich.

"We should be on the lookout for an ambush," Moffitt said before they left. "The arabs are experts at laying traps, as you discovered yesterday," he nodded at Dietrich.

"Agreed! Keep your eyes peeled!" Troy shouted, and with that the band took off, out of the canyon to rescue Tannen.


	4. Chapter 4

No ambush awaited the seven men as the exited the canyon, guns at the ready. They drove quickly, expecting at any moment to hear gunfire but none came. It was with relief that they cleared the open ground and entered the cover of rocks and sand dunes to the west of the canyon. Pulling to a halt under a copse of joshua trees the men assessed their situation.

"The half-tracks left quite an easy trail to follow," Moffit said pointing to the scores in the earth made by the big vehicles. "We could potentially follow them all the way to the Arab camp."

"And possibly straight into an ambush," Troy said, his voice grim.

"Do we have another choice, Sarge?" Hitch asked, blowing a bubble with his, ever present gum then popping it loudly with his teeth.

Troy shook his head, "I guess not," he glanced at Dietrich who was staring resolutely before him.

"Alright, follow the tracks it is then. But carefully. Moffit, you and Tully hang back, if we get into any trouble you come in with guns blazing."

Moffit nodded, "Be careful, Troy."

"You too," Troy pumped his fist in the air, "Shake it!" He shouted as the jeeps took off down the trail left by the Arabs in their stolen vehicles.

It was nearly noon by the time the patrol reached the end of the trail. It led to a large wash that offered cover from two sides big enough to hide the trucks and several tents from view. Unless you were looking for them you would never see them.

Troy and Dietrich left the jeeps and crawled on hands and knees up the side of a sand dune to get a good view of the camp below them. Using binoculars the men were able to assess the military strength of the band. They mostly had small arms, several rifles, none automatic, and the vehichles stolen form the germans the day previous.

"Look there, Sergeant," Dietrich pointed to the center of the camp where, tied to poles, stood five of his missing six men. They noticed with consternation that at least two of the men appeared to be either unconcious or dead the way they hung limply from their bonds.

"Who's missing?" Troy asked in a sharp whisper. "That will be your traitor."

Dietrich spied through his lenses again for a moment then looked at the american, "Private Krueger," He said at length. "I don't see what he had to gain by giving our position away to the arabs..." he trailed off, his thoughts darkening towards the man he had once commanded.

Troy shrugged, "Maybe he thought this was a way out of the war...somehow..." He sounded unconvinced of his own argument.

"At least Tannen is alive," The relief was evident in Dietrich's voice as he used the glasses again, focusing on his friend.

"That's good," Troy scanned the camp, looking for the watchers he knew would be in place at strategic points around the camp. "Look there," he pointed to the silhouette barely visible behind a rock in the harsh light of noonday. "Ten o'clock," he gave the position of the man to his temporary ally.

"And another at three," Dietrich nodded towards their right at a bush concealing a man.

"The two are all I see," Troy lowered his binoculars, "You see any more look-outs?"

A sudden shout and spatter of gunfire from behind the men cut off Dietrich's reply. Troy realized with horror that his men and Dietrich's had been discovered by the arabs. "Come on!" He shouted needlessly at the captain who was already heading at breakneck speed down the dune. The two leaders reached the desert floor at the same time and sprinted around the boulder hiding their friends from their view. They drew up at the sight that met them. Tully lay, blood staining his shirt, on the ground beside his jeep. Dietrich's two men were a little further away, face down in the sand. Hitch was slumped forward in his seat, his red kepi knocked onto the ground. Sergeant Moffit stood, held fast by two men in bedouin attire, his face contorted with pain as his arm was wrenched behind him harshly.

One of the bedouins spoke in a gravelly voice to Moffit who in turn translated to Troy and Dietrich. "He says to drop your guns!" The englishman's voice was tinged with a despairing tone.

Troy hesitated, two of his men lay...dead? wounded? He couldn't be sure but he knew that he would be no help to them if he got himself killed. But he wouldn't be much help to them if he was captured either.

Moffit yelped as the men tightened their grip on his arm, "They say they will kill you if you do not drop your guns!" He nearly shouted from the pain. "They say they will kill me now..."

Unwilling to see Moffit executed before his eyes, Troy let his gun slip from his fingers. Dietrich did the same. Instantly three bedouins decended on the, now unarmed men and tied them tightly with course ropes. Troy's eyes roved wildly between his three men as the arabs began dragging him towards the camp. "Moffit! Tell them...ask them if our men are alive! Ask if we can check! Moffit!"

Moffit spoke quickly in the arab's native tongue and was shoved nearly to his knees in response. Troy noticed Dietrich who's face was set as if made of stone. He looked neither to the right or to the left but stared straight ahead. Realizing that resistance was useless, Troy followed suit and allowed himself to be taken away from the scene of the attack. He walked blindly, seeing only his men...he knew that even were they alive they would be killed along with him and Ditrich's men. He felt a crushing weight upon his soul and a dark thought entered his brain, "So...this is how it ends."


	5. Chapter 5

"Hauptmann!?" A shocked Tannen exclaimed as his commander was roughly shoved into line beside him and his hands tied above his head in the fashion of the other prisoners. The two he and Troy had seen earlier from their vantage point were uncerimoniously cut down and dragged away. "Hauptmann Dietrich! How did you find me?"

"We simply followed the trail..." Dietrich said in a quiet voice. "The trail that seems to have been a trap..."

Troy was lined up next to the captain, recieving a punch in the nose for spitting in his captor's face. He groaned and spit blood, grimacing as he was nearly wrenched off his feet as his hands were tied like the german's. Moffit was tied a second later and the bedouin's then walked away, leaving the men to themselves for a moment.

"Moffit, what happened?" Troy asked quietly. "Do you know if Hitch and Tully..." he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

The englander shook his head, "It all happened so fast...one minute we were alone and the next five men attacked from nowhere... I should have known!" He cried out, anguish in his voice. "I know how the bedouins fight..."

Troy felt a flush of anger arising in him at this statement. That was right! Moffit knew the arab tribes and their ways. He should have known! But as quickly as the anger arose it faded into a deep sorrow. This wasn't Moffit's fault...

"Hauptmann! Krueger gave us away to these arabs," Tannen said excitedly, breaking the sudden silence.

"I know, do you know why?" Dietrich's tone was measured.

"Gold," the german private answered. His tone full of disgust. "He sold us out for gold!"

Ditrich's face flushed with anger but he closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. After a moment he opened them again and turned as far as his bonds would allow, to face Tannen. "Do you know where Krueger is right now?"

Tannen nodded his head towards the largest tent, "He is in there, but I do not think things are going too well for him."

"What makes you say that?"

"Screams...horrible screams that could only have been Krueger and then silence..." Tannen's face was pale as he remembered the terror filled cries. "He thought he was getting a reward from the treacherous natives and instead I believe they killed him."

Dietrich nodded, "Saves me the trouble," he said so low that Troy barely heard him.

"Any ideas on how we can get out of here?" The american sergeant asked Tannen.

Tannen looked at him then at his commanding officer, "I think there is something big planned for tonight. It may be that we get our chance then to escape."

"Something big?" Moffitt asked, curious how the german knew of these plans.

"Yes, the leader is very excited and he keeps gathering the men together and it looks to me like he's issuing orders." Tannen explained.

"And how do you know this plan is supposed to take place tonight?" Troy asked.

"A hunch..." Tannen nodded his head towards a group of arab men gethering near the stolen half tracks.

As the prisoners watched the arabs began a high pitched war cry then mounted the vehicles and left the camp. Only a few men remained to guard them, now was the time to escape. But all thoughts of leaving left them as the remaining men drove the two jeeps into camp bearing the bodies of their fallen friends. Troy felt anguish, despair and hatred all fighting for dominance in his mind. He wanted to kill all the arabs in this horrible place! And maybe ther germans as well. After all, if not for them they would not be here.

"Sergeant!" Dietrich whispered harshly. Troy dragged his thoughts out of their emotional turmoil and turned to Dietrich.

"What?!" He asked a bit sharper than he intended.

"Look...one of your men..." He tilted his head slightly towards the jeeps and Troy saw to his astonishment that Hitch was looking right at him. As the private realized he had gotten Troy's attention he winked and went limp once more, feigning death. Troy felt a huge sense of relief wash over him and he turned his gaze to Tully. But he remained still, ashen faced.

The prisoners watched as the bodies were roughly unloaded and heaped together at the edge of the camp, just outside the ring of firelight that was taking dominance as the sun faded into night. Troy felt himself holding his breath as he waited...he wasn't sure what he was waiting for but he kept waiting, watching, parying for something to happen. After a few tense moments he saw faint movement from the tangle of arms and legs. Darkness was fully upon them now and he had a hard time making out what was happening but he took comfort in the fact that the bedouins would have a hard time as well. He strained his eyes but nothing else moved...everything was silent save the arabs preparing their dinner and making preparations for the return of the warriors. Troy's spirit's sank, perhaps he had imagined what he had seen before...imagined that his friend still lived. He felt the darkness of depression, much blacker than the night, threatening to grag him under. He tried to fight it but knew he was losing the battle.

"Sarge!" A familier, blessedly welcome voice shouted from the darkness, followed by two explosions. Troy looked up and saw Hitch, machine gun blazing, take down two guards, duck returning fire and reappear to cut down the third guard. Chaos reigned in the camp, people screaming and yelling in fear, no one sure where the shots would come from next. Troy was searching the darkness surrounding the camp, looking for signs of his friend when he felt hands reach up and cut the knots binding him to the post. He dropped his nerveless arms and shook them to get the blood flowing, wincing at the pins and needles feeling that replaced the numbness. A second later he was joined by the rest of his band, now free of thier bonds as well. Hitch pressed a pistol into his hands and then motioned them to follow him. He led his friends to the jeeps where to Troy's amazement he saw Tully sitting in the passenger seat, pale and bandaged heavily but concious. One of Dietrich's men stood on shaky legs beside the other jeep, hands on his gun. Dietrich, Tannen and Troy quickly jumped into one jeep while Hitch and Moffit helped the german private into the other and with Hitch at the wheel, sped away from the camp that had almost been thier deaths. They did not stop until the sun's early rays began peeking over the horizon indicating a new day...a fresh start.


	6. Chapter 6

Dietrich surveyed the spot where he and his allies had decided to stop for some rest. The sun was high in the sky now and they were all thankful for the little cover provided by the large dune they huddled under. There was a small oasis nearby with enough water for all thier needs.

Immediately upon stopping the ragged band had patched up their wounded and assessed their injuries against their exhaustion. As badly as everyone just wanted to get home they knew that pushing themselves beyond endurance wouldn't help anyone. For the past three hours, Troy's men had been sleeping while he and Dietrich stood guard. They knew their trail would be easy to follow as they had made no attempt to hide it. They weren't sure if the Arabs would follow them or not but they kept watch all the same.

After pacing a bit, finding it difficult to sit still without sleep overtaking them, the two commanders found themselves standing together, both looking out at the sun baked sand before them.

After a long period of silence, Troy turned to Dietrich and spoke, "Maybe I am looking a gift horse in the mouth, Captain. But that all seemed too easy. And, though I am grateful, I can't help but wondering why my men are even alive. They should be dead...no one could miss at that range."

Dietrich nodded, his face contemplative, "I was thinking along those lines as well, Sergeant. Something troubles me about this entire situation."

Troy glanced over at the german then resumed his watch of the open desert, "Yeah, something is definately fishy."

Silence dropped over them like a heavy blanket for several minutes. both men lost in thought.

"Gold," Dietrich muttered to himself.

"How's that, Captain?"

Dietrich straightned from a thoughtful slouch and met Troy's gaze, "Tannen said Krueger was offered gold for our capture. But the barbarians killed most of us and destroyed half of our vehicles. I don't see what they wanted? Surely the two half tracks and one truck weren't worth the casualties they sustained."

Troy nodded, "You're right, that doesn't make sense." A low moan from Tully drew his attention for a moment but he saw, to his relief, that the injured man had just moved a bit in his sleep, pulling the bandage as he did so.

"How is he?" Dietrich asked softly.

"Not too bad," Troy smiled, "Bullet went clean through above his lung without hitting anything major...or at least that's the way it seems. I am no doctor."

"Brandt only suffered a concussion," Dietrich said of his man who had escaped with them.

"Good," Troy's expression was troubled despite his positive reply. His brow furrowed as he thought.

"What is it, Sergeant?"

Troy shook his head in exasperation, "I can\t put my finger on it..."

"I may be able to help," Hitch spoke and Troy whirled around in surprise, not having heard the man approach.

"Hitch! You ok?" The young blonde still looked very pale. Upon arriving at their chosen campsite he had been so groggy and disoriented he practically passed out on his bedroll without a word. Troy had decided to let him rest before questioning him about the events leading up to their escape. Tully had lost conciousness shortly out of the marauder's camp and so the american commander had to wait for more information. Moffit had only been able to tell him about the actual ambush, nothing about what occurred after that point. "You look terrible."

"I'll be fine," Hitch said, waving his hand as if to dismiss Troy's concern. "I saw something back there that may be helpful. Well, saw and heard something."

"What was it, Private?" Dietrich asked, somewhat impatiently.

Shooting a glare at the german officer, the young man continued his tale, "When they attacked it was out of the blue! You know, so sudden we had no time to react."

Troy nodded encouragingly, "And then what?"

"Well they hit Tully first and I thought to get on the .50 but one of them clocked me with his pistol. He thought I was out I guess because he takes off his turban and there stands an american."

How did you know he was american?" Dietrich asked.

"He started talking," Hitch said, speaking to Troy. "He has a new york accent. Anyway he tells two of the arabs to leave at least two of us alive. Before he can continue, you and the captain there came in."

Troy looked confused, "Why didn't Moffit tell me any of this?" He wondered aloud.

"He was too far away," Hitch explained. "I was in just the right place to overhear him."

Dietrich looked the young private right in the eyes, "You are certain of this?"

Hitch nodded emphatically, "He mentioned a name too, later, after they brought us into the camp."

"What name?" Troy asked.

"Krueger," Hitch said, looking at Dietrich and Troy in turn to see if the name meant anything to them. "you know him?" He asked, seeing the reaction on Dietrich's face.

"I think I see a little clearer now," The german said in his softly accented english.

"What? What do you see?" Troy asked, an edge to his voice from the stress and anxiety of the past hours.

"It seems to me that this has all been an elaborate hoax, Sergeant."

"A what?!" Troy asked in a near-shout.

"An ingenious plan of at least two scheming men with gold and riches in their sights."

"Talk straight, Captain. Are you saying some american and your man Krueger are working together to steal some gold from the arabs? If so, why did they involve you? Why did they ambush then leave my men alive?! What purpose did all this serve?!"

Dietrich stared levelly at the animated sergeant until his finished his outburst, "It is only a theory, Sergeant. But it seems to fit the evidence. There are many undiscovered eyptian tombs in this area, full of riches. Perhaps this tribe found some trinket...something tantilizing enough to attract the attentions of these money hungry individuals."

"Ok, but why attack your column? It cost them men you said."

Dietrich nodded, "But these men are ruthless, they see arab losses as no loss at all. And what better cover story than death to keep their identities hidden while they searched for their riches in secret."

"But how did they enlist the aid of the arabs in the first place?"

"They may have promised them a share in the wealth...I don't know, Sergeant. This just a theory."

Sergeant Moffit, rested after his nap, awoke to the discussion on the edge of their camp. Rubbing his eyes he listened for a few minutes then walked over to join them, "They may have persuaded the bedouins that they were fighting for thier god. They would stop at nothing should they be convinced of that holy cause."

"All while stealing treasures right out from under them," Troy shook his head. "Why did they leave Hitch, Tully and Brandt alive?"

"Witnesses," Moffit exclaimed. They needed someone to report Krueger's death back to the germans."

"Ok that explains, Brandt...but our men?"

"I am certain, had their plans played out to fruition, Sergeant. We would have seen why they wanted two allied prisoners to escape as well." Dietrich said in answer.

"Then why attack them in the first place? If they wanted live hostages...?"

"The bedouin's rarely take prisoners, Troy. They may have exceeded their master's wishes...gotten a little over-zealous."

"And how did they know we'd be there?"

"I am certain they must have observed us without us observing them and laid a trap. They could have known we were following them for quite some time." Moffit said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Alright, it does explain everything nicely. So what do we do about it?" Troy asked.

Dietrich looked off in the distance for a moment then returned his steely hard gaze to the american, "I lost many good men to these...treasure hunters. I want thier deaths to count for something."

Troy nodded, meeting each man's eyes in turn, "Alright, how are we going to do this. We have two wounded men and Hitch, you aren't fully recovered either."

"I can manage, Sarge!" Hitch said, puffing out his chest a bit.

"Tully isn't that badly hurt either, Troy." Moffitt said, "He lost a bit of blood and has a broken collarbone but a sling should remedy that until we can get to an aide station." He paused, "You know what he will want to do."

Troy laughed, "He will want a little justice..." He grew serious, "I would prefer we had some reinforcements...but I agree. Krueger and this mysterious american need to be stopped. I think there is more to this than just gold."


	7. Chapter 7

Night fell on the comany and with it came blessed relief from the scorching hot air. Within a few minutes of nightfall, a cheery fire was blazing and coffee was started. After sleeping most of the day, now was the time to plan.

Troy looked over the exhausted men and noticed that, although Dietrich felt comfortable enough to sit near the rest of the patrol, talking quietly with Hitch and Moffitt, Brandt stayed off to himself, quiet and morose. Sitting down, next to ther german captain, Troy nodded towards Brandt, "What's his story? He afraid of something?" Troy sipped the strong coffee as he talked, looking nonchelant to the nervous Brandt.

Dietrich didn't look at his man, instead focusing on the edge of the fire, "He is seventeen, Sergeant, scared of everything..." he paused, "You remeber when you first joined up?"

Troy smiled ruefully, "I was scared of my own shadow the first time I was in real combat. All the bravado I gained in basic left pretty quick with bullets flying around me."

Dietrich smiled too, a small but sincere smile, "I too suffered similarly. No amount of training can truly prepare you for actual combat."

"So have you thought any more on how to help your family?" Troy asked.

Dietrich looked surprised, "Every waking moment, Sergeant."

Troy nodded, a bit embarrassed at his obvious question, "Well so have I. I think I may have a plan." He looked, saw he had the captain's interest and plunged ahead. "My brother is flying with the RAF."

"Yes, I already knew that bit of information, how does it help?" Dietrich sounded a bit testy but Troy put it down to stress.

"He has a contact in Germany that can put him in touch with the underground working under Hitler's nose."

Dietrich's eyebrows raised, "Sergeant, you realize that if I am lieing to you...that the information you are giving me could mean you just betrayed your own brother."

Troy nodded, his gaze hard, fixed on the captain, "I saw the way you reacted in the SS camp when your family was threatened. I cann read now in your face just how much they mean to you. I...trust you."

Dietrich nearly choked on his coffee, "Please, Sergeant. Say that last sentence once more. You...trust...me?"

Troy shook his head, "Don't look so surprised. Obviously the feeling's mutual because you are here with me now...remember, you asked for my help."

before they could speak further, Hitch, who had been silently listening, suddenly cried out. "Sarge! Tully's awake!"

Troy smiled and stood, crossing the camp to stand by his friend's makeshift bed. Hitch was now sitting beside the wounded man, helping him to sit up and drink some water. To everyone's relief, Tully's face was flushed with color, indicating the seventeen hours of sleep he had just awoken from had helped to heal him.

"Hey, you look awful," Hitch said, a smirk on his lips.

Tully rolled his eyes up to Troy, "I get shot and the first thing he notices is my looks..."

Troy laughed, "Well, he's right. You do look awful. But you have to admit, you're not very pretty when you're not shot up either."

Tully laughed and winced as the movement jostled his bandaged shoulder, "Feel like an elephant stepped on me...with purpose!"

Hitch laughed, then grew serious, "Don't do that again." He said quietly.

Tully smiled, "Didn't mean to this time...but you're one to talk! You got hit too!" He touched Hitch's bandaged head.

"It's nothin," he protested, pushing Tully's hand away.

"This time, remember that ammo dump? Who took an arrow to the shoulder? And the time we had to take you to a german hospital because you got hit with grenade shrapnel? And the time..."

"Hush!" Hitch put a hand over the Kentuckian's mouth. "I think you need some food." He said suddenly then got up and walked away.

Troy knelt down and placed a hand on Tully's shoulder, "You gonna make it?"

"It'll take more than one bullet to kill me, Sarge." He winked.

Troy smiled then quickly brought the man up to date on thier plan to somehow stop the traitors running the arab camp. Tully listened, bristling with anger when he heard the part about an American being involved.

"Dirty traitor!" He whispered sharply, "Just give me a clean shot at him..."

"Well we plan to do just that," Troy said, "If you're up to it?"

In answer, the wounded man struggled to his feet and stood there, swaying slightly, "When do we leave?"

Troy helped Tully over to a rock by the fire and forced him to sit, "Soon, you stubborn hillbilly."

Moffitt shook Tully's hand in greeting, "Good to see you awake, Old Man!" He said jovially, his eyes twinkling in the firelight.

"I may be crippled up but I ain't old!" Tully said in mock protest. Moffitt laughed and after filling his plate, sat down near his driver and began to eat. Hitch brought Tully some food and soon everyone was gathered around the fire, soaking up the, now appreciated, heat.

A jackal called, sounding lonely in the dark desert when the men, finished eating and relaxed beside the fire. The moon high on it's ride across the sky. Hitch was the first to speak, "So what's the plan, Sarge?"

Troy saw all eyes, expectant, looking at him. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, gazing into the fire, "The plan is...we set a trap for them..."

"How?" Tully asked. "The outnumber us by a great deal."

Troy nodded, "Yes, they do out number us. That's why we set up in the box canyon we found earlier. If we position ourselves along the rim, we will have the high ground and the best vantage points."

"And how do we draw them to the canyon?" Moffitt asked.

"The radio..." Dietrich guessed correctly.

"Yes, we send and SOS over a station that the Jerries use. The arabs have the german trucks, they will hear the call and come right to us."

"Won't they suspect a trap?" Hitch asked.

"Maybe at first, but we put 'em at ease...We show 'em we're not a threat."

"How?"

"Our SOS message is gonna say that you two," he pointed at Hitch and Tully, "As well as Brandt over there, died from your wounds. Dietrich and I fought and I killed him. They walk into that canyon and see Moffitt and I digging graves?...They will fall right into our trap."

"Leaving you and Sergeant Moffitt exposed," Dietrich pointed out. I assume you plan on the four of us being hidden strategically around the canyon rim with rifles...but you and the englander will be right in the middle of the gunfire."

"Do you have a better idea?" Troy asked.

"I think I do..." Dietrich smiled slyly and explained his plan as the moon rose to it's zenith above them.


	8. Chapter 8

The sun was just cresting the horizon when the dust cloud kicked up by the german half-tracks could be seen approaching the canyon. The patrol and the two german soldiers awaited their arrival from places of hiding that gave them clear views of the path entering the canyon and the canyon floor below. The next half hour would decide the final results of the contest between the two groups, the patrol and the traitors.

"Get ready!" Troy shouted as a warning then he knelt down behind some cover to await the final approach.

As Moffit had predicted, three arabs came slinking up the trail they had taken earlier to get to their vantage points. Ready and waiting, the patrol made easy work of the scouts. Now they had the men below at a disadvantage. They would be expecting aid from lookouts that lay, unconcious and tied, unable to help their comrades.

Down below the watchers gethered the traitor's small group of men. From their perspective, they could see four graves marked with crude crosses and a man lying behind a boulder, curled up on his side, possibly asleep from the exhaustion of digging in the sun. The leader of the group halted the advance of the trucks and dismounted, curious that the sleeping man did not arise at the sound of the engines. He moved cautiously closer to the figure, suspecting at any moment for the man to jerk awake, come up shooting...something. But there was no movement. To the watchers above, who could clearly see the dummy they had contructed using a pair of boots and an extra pair of pants stuffed with dry grass, the scene was almost comical. The leader of the arabs creeping up on a scarecrow, gun in hand, fear evident on his face. At last the leader reached a point where he could look around the rock. He started to peer around the edge when an explosion to his left had him diving into the sand. A second and then a third explosion rocked the valley floor as he lay there, arms thrown over his head to protect it from debris. And then, in the wake of it all, he heard a loud voice from above him.

"This is Sergeant Troy of the United States Army! If you wish to live, drop your weapons! Our guns are aimed at your leader!" Troy's voice boomed and echoed off the rocks of the canyon giving it an unearthly quality, also effectively hiding his exact location from the searchers below him.

Standing shakily, the leader brushed off his robes and slowly unwound the truban he wore that covered his lower face. Dropping the long piece of cloth the dark haired man squinted up at the rocks, searching vainly for the source of the voice. "My name is Greg Krueger!" He shouted, "You have played the game well. The trap was perfectly sprung." He spoke in the clipped accent of a new yorker. "Should my men disarm themselves, what assurances do we have that you will not simply open fire?"

"If that was my intention...you'd be dead right now," Troy spoke levelly, a tone of menace in his voice.

At this, Greg cried out to his arab followers and they dropped their weapons into the sand and left the trucks, hands raised. "Alright!" he shouted, still addressing random rocks in place of the man he knew to be there. "Your terms are fulfilled. I have to say I am impressed that you and your sergeant Moffit alone could manage to ensnare us so effectively...Your choice of bait was...tantilizing." Krueger motioned to a tall man in arabian garb who came and stood beside him, he too unwrapped the turban he wore, revealing a very similar face to that of Greg Krueger's own. "My brother, Hans!" He said in explaination. "He stayed behind in Germany while I attended school in the United States. When the war broke out we were separated...but fate brought us back together, here in Africa."

"We knew that you couldn't resist the thought of an untouched egyptian tomb, full of riches." Moffit's precise tone came from Krueger's right. He spun to face that direction and saw the englishman, beret at a jaunty angle, gun steady, standing on a boulder about fifty feet away.

"Or another chance at capturing us," Troy added, "What'd you want from us? Information?"

Krueger smiled and bowed theatrically, "You seem to have me all figured out. I steal the gold, I sell the information...I will be rich before this war is over."

"And what will it profit you, Krueger?" Dietrich asked from behind the two traitors.

Hans' eyes widened at hearing the familier voice, "You...you're supposed to be dead!" He spoke in heavily accented english.

"And yet, here I am. Answer my question!" Dietrich said fiercely. He was fighting the anger he felt at Krueger's betrayal...fighting not to simply gun the man down where he stood.

"What will it profit me?!" The man asked in disgust, "Riches...wealth beyond your imagining."

"But you can not get it out of Africa...and you certainly can not get it to Germany..."

"Who said anything about going back to Germany?" Greg interrupted. "There are many places where my brother and I can dissapear. Bribe a few officials and our identity never gets out. We are assumed dead or captured, casualties of war, free to live out our lives in peace."

"You don't seem like the peaceful type to me," Tully spoke from two feet away, having remained concealed until all eyes were looking at Dietrich. He stood, casually balancing his grenade launcher on his good shoulder, his bad arm stuffed into a makeshift sling. "All those killed back there..."

"And yet I made sure you and your friends remained alive," Greg said, an almost maniacal gleam coming into his eyes. "All I really want is peace, peace for me and my brother to just be...safe..." his voice trailed off as he spoke. Hans placed his arm around his brother's shoulders and stood, gazing defiantly at the southerner, a smirk on his face that made Tully wonder what he was hiding.

Troy noticed it as well, "Why so smug? You are surrounded with no means of escape!"

"You are a fool, Sergeant!" Hans' word barely left his lips when a shrill battle cry erupted from the plateu where Troy, Hitch and Moffit now stood. Within seconds, all out war ensued with Troy's men hopelessly outnumbered.

Troy turned to the first of his assailants and shot him through the head with his rifle. Taking a half step to the left he shot another one in the chest and a second time in the shoulder. A noise behind him saved him as, upon hearing it, he dropped to his knees just under the arcing blade of a scimitar. Drawing his own blade he stabbed back and hit the man in the knee joint. Twisted the combat knife drew a howl of pain and brought the man to his knees where Troy dispatched him with a pistol shot. He looked around, searching for his men, hoping against hope they were alright..but he could see nothing except the next attacker.

Sergeant Moffit balanced on his rocky perch long enough to shoot two men coming at Tully from behind but he was then knocked from it by a cruel blow to his leg. Unable to stand the valiant englishman drew his webley sidearm and began firing at the men closest to him. One by one they fell, but it seems for every one he killed, another two took his place. He knew he was going to have to reload soon...but would he have time before they fell upon him?

Hitch blocked a sword with his rifle stock and ducked as a gun erupted in his face. Diving to the left he came up hard with his gun, crunching his attacker's nose with it. He knew better than to stop though and left the stunned man behind, running to a large rock, placing his back to it he fired, killing two men before the rest were upon him. Letting out a rebel yell that would have made Tully proud, Hitch dove into the throng, swinging the rifle like a club and feeling it connect with several satisfying thumps. He glanced up in time to see Troy fall, his balance lost over a small rise. Hitch felt his breath catch in his throat, had he just seen his commander killed?! But he had no time to comtemplate further as the arabs were closing in rapidly.

Tully let fly with the grenade launcher but dropped it and had his pistol out, even before the explosion. He turned, his wounded shoulder all but forgotten as adrenaline coursed through his blood, and fired three times. Three men fell dead to the canyon floor. Reloading as he ran the Kentuckian found himself imagining that this is what his great - grandfather must have felt like at Gettysburg, surrounded and outnumbered. These thoughts helped him draw strength and with an eraged battle cry he let fly with the weapon, killing five men instantly.

Captain Dietrich felt unusually calm as he fought his attackers. He somehow seemed detached, as if none of this was really happening and that nothing could hurt him. His rational mind knew better though and he dodged expertly, weaving through the robed men, leaving a path of destruction behind him as he fired methodically. In the back of his mind he found himself wondering where Tannen was...

Hitch jumped down from rock to rock, decending to the sandy ground, pursued by angry men. He ran for all he was worth to the red headed tornado he knew to be his friend. At his shout, Tully placed his back to Hitch's and the two men fought and protected each other at the same time. Attacker after attacker fell to their onslaught but they were fast running out of ammunition and strenth. Tully's arm and shoulder grew weak as blood ran freely from the wound that had reopened in the fight. He knew from the dark edges around his vision that unconciousness was imminant, but he couldn't stop...couldn't leave Hitch alone to fight...But it was not up to him and he sank into blackness as his friend's frightened cries and shouts of concern echoed in his ears.

Dietrich heard Hitch's frantic shouts and saw Tully, crumpled in a heap at the young man's feet. Without thought he fought his way over to the american and with a nod, took up a stance on the other side of the fallen man, defending him from the arabs. He heard a scream and looked up to see the englishman, gun smoking as his enemy fell from the rocks to his death below. Moffit tried to rise but could not, Dietrich felt pity for the man, he would die there, unable to move.

The Krueger brothers had nearly made their way to the canyon mouth when they were stopped suddenly by a regiment of germans. Tannen, weary from his speedy treck in one of the rat patrol's jeeps to the nearby german lines and then the race back, jumped down before the fleeing men. His boots crunched on the gravel as he strode up to them. Recognizing Hans he smiled, without mirth. "If Hauptmann Dietrich is dead..." he left the threat unfinished, ordered two men to bind and guard the brothers and then led the convoy of armoured vehicles into the canyon.

The battle ended very quickly then, the reinforcements clearing the last of the rabble away like rats scattering in the light. Tannen, fear in his heart, searched for his commander, his friend. To his relief he found Dietrich, leaned back against a boulder, his eyes closed with exhaustion. Nearby the blonde american knelt beside his friend, rebandaging the shoulder wound. A cry from the rocks drew his attention to the limping, but mobile, Sergeant Moffit as he made his slow, painful journey down the canyon's wall. Look as he might though, ther german soldier could see no sign of the leader of the patrol, Troy was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is Troy?!" Moffit voiced Tannen's thoughts as the injured man reached them.

Hitch looked up, sweat and blood streaked his youthful features, "He fell...up there." He pointed at a group of boulders. He wanted to go check on Troy, but he also wanted to stay near Tully. He looked up into Moffit's worried gaze and the englishman looked back. There was no movement, no sound from the rocks where Troy had last been seen. A sense of dread fell upon the men as they all stared at the spot, willing Troy to appear.

At last, Dietrich pushed away from the boulder and started up the hill. He walked slowly, partially from ehaustion and partially because he was afraid of what he might find. Cresting the rise he looked down at a tangle of arms and legs where bodies had fallen into the crevase created by the massive stones. Grunting with the effort he began dislodging the corpses until he reached the still for of the american Sergeant. His face was pale and still, blood stained his clothes but it was impossible to tell how much was his and how much belonged to the dead arabs. Whispering a silent prayer the german captain reached out and felt for a pulse. To his relief he felt the steady heartbeat under his fingers. Troy was alive, somehow they had all made it... A sudden thought chilled Dietrich to the bone. He had yet to see Brandt. Where was the boy?

Calling for aid he waited beside Troy's still form until three german soldiers came to bear him down the hill. They recieved strict instructions to take care in their handling of even an enemy soldier. Gently the carried the unconcious american down to the makeshift hospital the others had erected in the valley floor.

Dietrich began his search for Brandt, a sick feeling in his stomach. He started at the young man's last seen position and began tracking outwards in ever increasing circles, aided by Tannen and another man who's name he did not know. A shout from this man brought Dietrich to his side. There, crumpled on the ground, a bullet hole between his eyes lay the body of the young private. No hope for life remained and Dietrich felt himself fall to his knees. Uncharacteristic tears fell as he knelt there beside the body of his friend. Tannen urged the german soldier away and stood by until Dietrich finally stood, wiped his eyes and walked over to him. Tannen placed a sympathetic hand on the captain's arm then let go, always tactful.

"I wish I had been just a little sooner," Tannen said at last. He glanced at Brandt meaningfully with this staetement.

"You did admirably," Dietrich said with a weak smile, "You saved us," he swept his hand to include the rat patrol, "from certain death." His gaze grew distant, his mind with his family, "We can not save everyone..."

Tannen nodded, then called for a burial detail to take care of their fallen comrade.

Troy's eyes fluttered open to see his friend's faces clustered around him, "Well...we must have won..." he said weakly, "cause this can't be heaven!"

Smiles bloomed on Hitch and Moffit's faces, "We thought we'd lost you for a minute there, Sarge." Hitch proclaimed.

"It was a pretty close shave, Old boy," Moffit said softly, "The bullet missed your heart by a milimeter."

"It still in there?''

"Passed clean through, high powered rifle shot," Hitch explained.

"Tully?" Troy asked.

"Alive and doing alright I think...we should get you both to hospital though," Moffit answered.

Troy met his friend's eyes, "And...Dietrich?"

"Here, alive and unharmed," Dietrich answered the question, stepping around into Troy's view. "Tannen was able to get help in time and the unit destroyed the arabs and captured the Kruegers." He swallowed, "And Brandt was our only casualty..."

"I'm sorry," Moffit said after a long period of silence following the captain's statement. "He was a good man."

Dietrich straightned and smiled, "He is out of this filthy war gentlemen. We must continue to fight it."

"Have you chosen a side?" Troy asked softly as not to be overheard by the newcomers.

"I have, Sergeant. But for now...I must leave with these men," he indicated thier german rescuers. "They will want you and your men as prisoners...I will have to convince them to leave you behind." He smiled wanly, "I will see you again, Sergeant."

Troy nodded, knowing he could do nothing more at the moment. He was in no shape to fight a german unit...he couldn't fight a kitten in the state he was in. And he was down a man on top of things. Dietrich had to look normal, had to keep up the appearance of being a loyal german officer. Troy watched as the tall man strode away. He shouted some orders in german and the convoy unloaded a crate filled with medical supplies and food before they drove away, leaving the battered patrol alone in the silence of the battle's aftermath.


	9. Epilogue

Epilouge - Dietrich knew that a tough road filled with even tougher choices lay before him. He knew that anything he did might put his beautful Lennore and angelic Marta at risk...but what else could he do. He shuddered at the thought of the camps...the deaths... Gazing out over the familier terrain of the african desert, he felt a sudden sense of peace, he knew that God would help him...he knew he would find the right path...of this he was certain.

Troy and Tully spent the majority of a month at the hospital near allied command headquarters being pampered and spoiled by a dozen nurses, eager to make life a little easier for the wounded men recouperating there. But they knew that once the wounds healed they would be back in it...back fighting the enemy...back fighting for the ones who couldn't fight for themselves. But despite the dark happenings of the last month, the hope of tomorrow...a free tomorrow devoid of war, brightened their dreams and rekindled their fighting spirits.

The End


End file.
